Anubis

The vast, pale moon hangs high in the velvet heavens, its opalescent glow making the sweat on your brow glisten even as you reach up once more to wipe it away. Desert nights may be cool, but slave labour is exhausting work in any conditions.
The trowel in your right hand moves with a practiced ease as you bat down another layer of mortar. The scrape of metal on sandstone has become a sound more familiar to you over the past two months than that of your own breathing. Which is why, even above the sounds of your own work, you can easily pick out the sound of pacing paws behind you.
"You know, this would go much faster if you hadn't sent the mummies away," you remark, without turning round. "If you're so determined to stick to the schedule, I don't understand why -"
You feel the tip of her staff prod you in the butt, accompanied by the typical lupine growl of exasperation. You grin to yourself. The power to annoy is just about the only power you have over her.
"Why do you want this pyramid finished before midnight so badly, anyway?" you ask, undeterred. "It's not like there's an employee holiday coming any time soon, is it?" Slaves don't get holidays. Or weekends. This has been amply demonstrated to you since you first stumbled into your captor's service, staggering out of the dunes and into indenture.

And here she is now, prowling into your field of vision like some sort of moonlit mirage. Anubis. Part captor, part supervisor, part lover; the contradictory girl who's been holding your metaphorical leash every day (and night, for that matter) since you stumbled into her desert. Twitching, animal ears and a swishing, matte-black tail, sihlouetted in silver by the moon's pervasive glow. Her face is heavily decorated; elaborate black eyeshadow coiling around the orbits of her red eyes. Though you're careful not to look too long; you've learnt through experience that a slave is not supposed to make eye contact with its master. Elsewhere across her body, the bejewelled ornaments she loves so much twinkle in the night-light; golden scarab beetles embroided into her long, dark hair; jade herons pinned to the flowing silks of her sirwal pantaloons. Actually, she seems decked out in more stuff than usual tonight...

"If you didn't spend all this time ogling me, we'd have been done half an hour ago," anubis growls at you, her heavily-made-up eyes narrowing in irritation. By contrast, though, the subtle changes in her stance - the puffing out her chest, the gentle swishing of her tail against her butt - tell of a different reaction to your attention. Seduction comes to mamono as as automatically, as subconsciously, as breathing; and no matter how aggrieved her brain gets, her body always generates a treat for the roving gaze.
This doesn't mean you can take anything other than a surreptitious glance, mind you. It's her brain that decides whether to jab you with that staff or not.

All the time, your hands keep building: mortar, brick, scrape. Mortar, brick, scrape. By this point, you could almost build a pyramid in your sleep. You're fairly sure you have built a pyramid in your sleep once or twice in the previous few days, half dozing-off towards the end of a seventeen-hour shift only to find yourself snapping back awake two meters further along with geometrically perfect stonework left in your wake. Whether this is a good thing or a bad thing, you can't decide. On the one hand, it reduces the number of times you get jabbed with anubis' staff (which, while not all that painful, is certainly annoying); on the other hand, you're fairly sure sleep-bricklaying is not indicative of a man who's altogether sane.

Still, it's nearly over now. You're on the final part of the final step. Anubis has grown more impatient in these last few days, as the vast edifice approaches completion, extending workshifts bit by bit, pushing you and her small coterie of mummies harder and harder the higher you rise above the desert sands. Apparently, the human custom of rewarding employees when they overwork towards a deadline is reversed for a mamono boss. Or maybe it's just conventional for slavery in general. Either way, the long work schedules had been mitigated by mummies helping out during the construction: tireless; industrious; and silent but for the deeply suspicious moans they make if you accidentally brush against them.

Until... now.

Tonight it's just you and her, and the scrape of trowel against stone. You haven't got a clue what this means, or what comes when the pyramid is finished, and anubis seems in no mood to elaborate on the topic to a "lowly slave who asks too many questions". Well, no change there, then. Though she does seem to be pacing around a little more franticly than usual. Her cool facade isn't easy to read, however. Even after all those tumbles together, performing her... 'night duties'... you can't really say you know her. Still, she seems... nervous? Are her cheeks a little flushed? In the dark, it's kinda hard to tell...

Mortar, brick, scrape, DONE. With a not inconsiderable feeling of accomplishment, you square the last block into position, and let the trowel drop from your hands. At last. You close your eyes and heave a deep sigh of relief. Two months. Close to three million bricks. But it's done. The damn thing is finally finished.

Blinking your eyes open again, you risk a covert glance at the face of your mamono captor. There's no smile or congratulations - not that you really expected either - but what you did not expect is for her to look away from your eyes, in a way that - if you didn't know better - would look almost embarrassed. But the wolf-girl's composure soon returns, as she reaches down and retrieves a gilded hourglass from the expansive pockets of her trousers. The questioning "Wh-?" hasn't even left your lips before she motions with a paw for silence. Even as the two of you watch, the glass' twinkling grains drain towards their last few seconds within the upper bulb. Anubis quietly places the glass on the top step, before herself climbing up onto the very pinnacle of the pyramid that you've just this minute mortared.

"Hey, wait!" you object. "Be careful, it's not set ye-mrrf-hrrrf" Anubis silences you by - gently - placing a foot to your lips. The scent of fur and sand wafts into your nostrils, though you find yourself highly aware of the razor-sharp claws that peek out of her tridactyl appendage. Slowly - almost... tenderly? - her foot strokes downwards, sliding over your neck, your collarbone, before ending up planted squarely in your chest.

The pleasant sensation of fur on skin almost makes you forget where you are; but once she stops moving, the realisation hits you with all the force of those three million bricks you've just assembled. Old history lessons come rushing back into your head, about ancient kings and pharaohs who, at the end of their great projects, had all the workmen maimed or killed so they could never rival or repeat their master's work. And you're at the top of a pyramid. A very exactingly constructed pyramid with an exactingly consistent 51° slope. Which would be exactingly fatal if you were to fall down it. Say, after a tiny push from the mamono's paw planted on your midsection.

"Are you scared?"
She must have seen it in your face, that flash of fear as you recognise the totality of her power over you in this instant. You're certainly not going to lie to the monstergirl; not in this situation. So you just nod, once, with the smallest motion you dare muster.
"P-please. Don't be," anubis whispers. Something's wrong. She never says please. "We can't both be scared..."
Out of the corner of your eye, the last grain trickles from the hourglass. And then-

"AWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~~"

An ear-splitting wolf-howl rips the night apart, setting your ear-drums ringing even after you clamp your hands to the side of your head. Eyes still deferentially downcast, it takes you a second to realise the volume comes from the proximity. Anubis is baying at the moon.
Once her howl peters out, you feel her foot retreat from your chest. Planting her paws apart on the top step, anubis raises her staff into the air, its golden scales jostling in the cool desert breeze. Cautiously unplugging your ears, you can hear the sound of other wolf-cries, from far away in the distance. What the hell!?

"Gods of the desert! Heed me!" anubis yells across the shifting sands, in the voice of command which you're altogether more familiar with. "Khonsů, who watched us from the moon, and Shu, who watched us from the sky! Gēb, from who's body we have taken stone, and Thoth, with whose wisdom we have shaped it!"
'Old desert gods?' a voice pipes up in the tiny section of your mind that's neither deafened nor paralyzed with fear. 'Since when do the mamono worship anything but their depraved Demon Lord?'
"...And Isis, whose blessing we now seek! I take this... I... I take..."
Her voice falters, the loud, clear words dwindling down, down, all the way to a tiny, lupine whimper. Unable to stop yourself, you look upwards, directly into anubis' eyes. What you see is at once the most unexpected, and the most beautiful, thing you have ever seen.

She's crying. Tears trace damp tracks across her cheeks, slightly smudging the thick black makeup around her elegant eyes. On a face most often seen holding an impatient glower, or - at best - a predatory, wolfish smirk, this is profoundly disconcerting. But you don't even think about that. Because beneath the tears, more brilliant than the the golden decorations in her hair or the twinkling stars in the sky behind her, anubis' lips hold the happiest, most heart-rendingly joyful smile you could ever have imagined. It's like the sun has come out at the dead of midnight. You thought it was just an expression, but it leaves you literally breathless. Full of unbridled warmth and love, you... you just want to close your eyes now and get struck blind right now. Because even if you live to a thousand years, in all the worlds of creation there is nothing which could concievably match this vision.
But, seeing you watching her, anubis' smile does something you wouldn't have thought possible. It somehow does gets even more beautiful.

"I... I take this h-human," she manages, in a soft voice, now just for you, "to be my seshet, now and forever. Please... please Gods, accept this pyramid as a token of o-our devotion, and... and bless everything that happens here tonight."
Laying the golden staff down at her side, anubis' paws slip round to her back. That bushy tail flicks and wriggles as she undoes a catch on her necklace, somewhere; and as one, her clothes just fall off her.

Still kneeling where you slumped after laying the final brick, your eyes find themselves at the exact elevation to note that the arid desert certainly does not extend all the way up to the top of the pyramid. Her secret place is actually dripping. At least, that's what it looked like; but before you know what's what, anubis has snuck a modest paw in between you and that delicious, moist honeypot. Her other paw does the same duty on the top half, concealing those small but perfectly squeezable, curvy breasts from view.

"Umm... y-you can stand up, you know. I... I mean, if you want to, that is..."
Two months of slave conditioning bring you to your feet in a flash, though something tells you that you won't be needing such a mental reflex tonight. That being said, freedom of action is not something that gets re-learned in seconds. You just... stand there, though your eyes certainly take a trip around anubis. In repetition of the true mamono style, her reaction to a growing sense of naked embarrasment does exactly the opposite her brain intended: hugging her breasts closer with her paw only succeeds in pushing more of her pert cleavage into view of your roving gaze.

"Am... am I acceptable t-to you?" she asks shyly, her eyes averted.

The question is so absurd, on so many levels, that it finally prompts you to speak your first words since you finished building the platform she's standing on. "Yes! Gods, yes, but... I... I have seen you before, you know."
Hah. Truer words were rarely spoken. You've lost count of the number of times she's dragged you into her bedchamber... or into the shady oasis... or even just straddled you out on the dunes in the height of the midday sun! She's a mamono, she's fucking insatiable - and insatiable fucking. Why is she even asking that question!?

"B-but that was different," she tells you. "You... you were just a slave then. Now... now you're my seshet."

"I don't understand," you say. "What does that even mean?"

"Um... y-you humans don't really have a word for it. I... I guess it means 'the one who puts'," Anubis shifts her weight uncertainly on her paw-feet."The one who puts... children. Inside."

You blink.
A wind ruffles through anubis' hair, sweeping around the top of the pyramid and obligingly carrying the bulk of her discarded clothing away over the desert. Everything else is silent.

"I... I made you my seshet because I want to make a litter with you." Traces of that breathtaking smile creep back onto her face, chasing away the shy uncertainty that had clouded her features. "Because you're smart, and strong, and kind, and handsome, and I... I never thought I'd feel about a slave like I feel about you. And... you made a great pyramid, right on time, so I know Isis will bless us up here tonight, and..."
Her paws slowly fall away from concealing her body. You see her nipples in the moonlight, dark and perky and aching to be touched; and the glistening wetness that stains her inner thighs, overflowing at the thought of accepting your love. She wraps those warm fuzzy arms around you, pulling you into a tight, desperate embrace.
"So please..." she says. You can feel those tears on her cheek again, returning along with her heart-stopping smile as she nuzzles her face against yours.
"Please... please..! Please be my seshet. I so badly want it to be you. Y-you've made me my pyramid already..."
She whispers, softly, into your ear.

"So now, please... let me make you your daughters."